Champagne's for celebrating, I'll have a Martini
by munchkinjenny05
Summary: AU future-ish: Lauren isn't suprised when she runs into Carter after getting some bad news. She decides that it must be fate, having another chance to relive old patterns and play their familar games. She's never been a fan of loneliness or letting go, but maybe this time she can get it right. After all, people say goodbye in their own way, and they'd never really had a fitting one


**A/N: So I was listening to the song **_**'Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis' **_**by Brand New and I got overcome by Carter and Lauren relationship feels. Immediately a smutty (that isn't really smut, but the suggestion of it, since I can't write that) future set hotel room scenario popped into my head, but when I finally sat down, this poured out instead. Considering it wasn't what I set out to do and it's probably slightly heavier on dialogue and lighter on plot than everything else I typically write, I think it's turned out alright. I'd love some constructive feedback though since it's my first proper MIOBI story. **

She wasn't surprised that the universe placed him in front of her when she was at her lowest ebb, full of despair and alcohol weary. It was a variation on an ancient pattern, an action reminiscent of the phone line that always used to dangle precariously between them. She'd always imagined that he was capable of saving her, and it took her a long time to establish that in reality, everything he had done since choosing her was just slowly condemning them both.

It was a fluke, a kiss and a selection, which should have never happened in the first place. He'd consistently been clear that she wasn't the one, from every moment since he initially took her in his arms, until the last when he walked away, and yet Lauren just couldn't seem to let go. The knowledge that his lips were a poison chalice didn't stop her from reaching out over and over, long after it had gone stale. She rationalised it because severing ties wasn't easy for her, and Carter Anderson was her milestone in just about every way. He was her first crush, first kiss, first boyfriend, (it was official to her even if no-one else ever believed they were more than friends with benefits), and above all first love, the first person that she revealed her truest self to. She didn't hesitate to show him the girl that she hid from her friends, a blonde who wasn't afraid to be self-deprecating or make jokes. Lauren couldn't berate herself for clinging to that, cherishing all the moments and the memories, and so she embraced the inevitable downfall without waiting for it. She wasn't going to obsess over what ifs anymore, she decided. Therefore, when she reached for the phone at 2am, having failed to cry herself to sleep, the blonde didn't flinch. It was harmless, she was still reeling from her mother's death and she needed an ear that was all. They hadn't met up, they weren't having sex, she hadn't let him back in. He understood what it was like to lose someone that was all, and she desperately needed to share her elation that she was wanted. It was that simple. The fact that she called him again when it was clear that Max was going to choose Payson, and let him whisper comforting lies in her ear, wasn't significant. It didn't even matter that she ultimately summoned him back into her bed regardless of the fact that prior to that night he was last seen draped all over Kelly Parker. The only important thing was that he appeared with no questions asked about the other boy previously spotted glued to her waist under the fluorescents, not that he left the next morning before dawn broke. The final time she called him was the night before she left for Rio. He didn't answer the phone and Lauren honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She'd never wanted to be one of those girls who left tearful messages on a guy's voicemail, and so ended it then and there, pressing delete on Carter Anderson and finally cutting him out of her life. Until now at least.

He hadn't noticed her, and she sipped her drink, dirty with a single olive, whilst studying the back of his head intently. His hair had grown, curling way past his jaw line to fall almost at his shoulders. She couldn't stop herself from internally questioning whether his skin, concealed by a parka, had darkened. She pictured the emergence of new freckles on his forearms, the legacy of ranch sunlight, and smiled unwittingly. She longed to unlock the new tales that his eyes might tell. All the while, her rational mind, not yet overcome, screamed at her to stay away because she was far from that lovesick 16 year old girl. Clearly though, in spite of the scars blooming vividly under her skin, she hadn't been burnt enough to make the lesson stick. Her body ached to betray what little good sense she actually possessed, and she was right there alongside her basic impulses, urging them to guide her. The reality is that in an instant, all the years had fallen away and nothing had changed. His presence reduced her to that same girl who wants to put on a show and Lauren was right back to square one, falling hard into old habits. She felt the familiar butterflies, and her yearned to make him turn around and look.

As it happened, he did eventually spy her, but not for any of the reasons that she hoped. His attention was drawn by a wayward glass (not hers, she was clutching it like a life-raft) hitting the floor. "Lauren?" He voiced her name like a question even though they both knew he recognised her. She'd worked hard not to change much in the intervening years. Outwardly anyway, she still resembled that fresh faced teen, (and quite rightly, her adolescence barely behind her in any case) having poured an endless stream of cash and more hours than she'd ever care to admit into the pursuit. She needed her youthful glow, the exuberance, it was a huge part of her brand, her image, everything she embodied post London. All the same, she hid a blush as his eyes widened, the man in the process of doing a literal double take at the sight of her.

"Oh hi, Carter." She retorted with an air of false nonchalance, keeping her tone husky and effortlessly underwhelmed as though she hadn't just been planning this very exchange and running all the possible scenarios over in her head. She took another slow deliberate sip and used it as a reminder to breathe. There were a million questions that she wanted to ask as soon as shrewd hazel eyes clocked him in the corner, but she would never let them fly because they sounded stupid and pointless even to her own ears and most of all they appeared needy, something that she swore she wouldn't be. Instead, she hid in silence and waited for him to make the first move. Her heart hammered in her chest as he slid onto the bar stool next to her and Lauren's focus flickered cautiously to his face, not quite daring to stay and connect. She wished that her own eyelids weren't fighting against sleep and smoke, all her wits needed to be gathered. It was a battle that neither of them would ever acknowledge that they wanted to win and it had already begun.

"Long time no see, how are you?" He glanced at her chest when he spoke and it took everything she had not to wince at the lingering path his eyes travelled and the pity she would have found therein, had she looked up. Her heart, although long healed, was the elephant in the room. She cleared her throat politely but otherwise pretended that she didn't notice. There were no spaces inside her to harbour his guilty conscience; her own worried her enough. The delay in her response felt infinitely long as she drowned in her ragged pulse and so in place of painfully dredging up their mutual failings, she opted to concentrate on the greeting itself, dissecting the language in search of her next move. It was stilted and overly formal, but Lauren didn't smirk because didn't believe that she had secured her victory yet, in so few syllables. There was no room for smugness.

As a result, although for all of a nanosecond she had toyed with the idea of gloating in her reply, that notion had been swiftly cast aside. Half-truths were as unworthy as ego at that point. Of course, he knew the outcome in London, with all the coverage that was no secret, and career wise things were actually great, but her personal life remained stubbornly in the toilet. Medals didn't fix everything for her. She relied on the safety of vague statements. "I'm a walking contradiction, and you?" At least it wasn't a passé pleasantry; if she had fallen back on escape by using a phrase like _I'm_ _fine_, then there really wasn't a glimmer of hope.

He laughed. "I guess some things never change. You always were the most complicated girl I ever dated."

Lauren didn't miss a beat as she fired back. "We never really dated, our relationship was a lengthy booty call, though I consider you calling me complicated an honour nevertheless. At least I was never boring, or bored for that matter."

"I can't argue that. I never thought I'd say this, but I appreciate your drama now that I'm hooking up with all these colourless co-eds. Nobody tells you that college girls are 90% cliché and 10% beer goggles."

"They should print that in the brochures." She snorted, rolling her eyes. The girl hadn't missed Carter's reminder that he was still a player, big boy on campus, revelling in all the delights of college gymnastics. Apparently partying was his real major, or so he wanted her to think.

"I mean it, sometimes I really miss you." Those words struck out of nowhere, shattering the fragile rapport that had been anchoring them both.

Lauren was suddenly overwhelmed by anger. What right did he have to pull the rug from under her like that? The venom was spewed quicker than she could erase, the bitterness scorching the air irrevocably. "Sometimes? Like the nights when your bed's empty?" A few people turned to look, but unfortunately there was no rewind button for conversations. Left without a choice, the blonde stared him down, as if putting him in his place was her intent all along.

"Come on Lo, you know it isn't like that. You broke up with me, remember." His voice was gentle, but his expression silently added that she was the one who brought him back over and over too.

It riled her, that sting in the tail, alongside the regret that she let him have another piece of her and the niggling sadness that even with all that she offered, Carter still wasn't there when she really needed him. He didn't show up to drive her away from her crumbling family the night that Summer disowned her nor did he appear at the hospital all contrite, flowers in hand when said getaway vehicle could have killed her. That night should have been a distant memory, but it reared its ugly head in the face of her fury and refused to fade. The problem was the ugly black marks against Carter constantly tallied too high for her to overlook. He wasn't there. He didn't offer to hold her hand through her heart surgery even though the news travelled. He didn't care, and make-believe would only ruin them both. Lauren Tanner was too old for charades and pantomimes. "I hate that you keep throwing that back in my face. Stop pretending it was my choice!" she didn't mean to yell, but her resentment festered like a wound that he was content to prod.

"I told you I loved you, gave you everything you wanted." He sounded like a pouty child, sulking into his beer bottle. That comparison was everything she sought to avoid and she suddenly recalled with perfect clarity all the reasons that they seldom used to talk when they had dated.

"Enough okay, let's just leave the ancient history in the past." That suggestion was a cop-out, too easy and unfulfilling, and yet, she was exhausted and certainly in no mood to fight tooth and claw anymore. As such, Lauren swallowed the defeat gladly and allowed it to sink into the depths her gut like a stone. She reflected that it cut through her emptiness in any case, so maybe things could be worse.

"You brought it up." He snapped back, huffily, unable to let her peacemaking attempt lie. It was infuriating and the blonde bit her tongue hard, coating her mouth with liquor in place of poisonous quips because she was trying hard to continue her pledge.

"I went to the doctor's today. I prayed and prayed so hard that it wasn't a pregnancy scare. As it turns out, I should have been more careful what I wished for, because now that's never going to happen." The truth came out simultaneous to her glass being emptied. There was nothing to cower behind and fake smiles and stale phrases weren't going to cut it. She didn't know if it was a relief or just another burden for her shoulders, letting the secret out, but it hardly seemed to matter in the long run. She was torn between telling him or staying silent, but she isn't entirely sorry that her loose tongue won. It wasn't only that Payson bailed on the arranged commiseration drinks and there was nobody else around, it was more than that. Perhaps a part of her needed him to know that she was still broken and give him one last chance to put the pieces back together, or maybe she was just sick of lying to him. "I can't have kids Carter, not ever, and my fiancé barely stuck around long enough to hear the doctor confirm the first sentence." She sighed, suddenly praying for a cigarette, although it was never her habit. She missed her ex; he had been her island away from gymnastics. At first she detested the way that even though he always went outside to indulge his craving, her hair forever smelled like smoke nonetheless, but now the recognition that the scent was fading made her want to cry. Everything was slipping through her fingers and she couldn't grip it tight enough.

"I'm so sorry, Lauren." That was it, no earth shattering grand gesture. He paused, expression thoughtful, and then added. "When the time is right you could always try adoption. I think given everything you've been through, you'd have a lot to offer messed up kids… like us."

She chuckled in spite of herself. "You always were so rational about everything. Nothing fazes you." She grinned. "Do you remember when I showed up to the Pizza Shack in nothing but a trench coat and you made me take out the trash?" Lauren was content to let this meeting descend into a pleasant trip down memory lane. She was done with the painful alternative and doubted that she possessed enough energy to scratch out his eyes if she had desired it.

"Listen, I know you'll tell me to shut up again, but I'm a little too drunk to care, and so, here goes…please forgive me for how I treated you back then. It's no excuse, but I was screwed up, and I really do regret how things played out."

"Apology accepted." The blonde murmured. "Oh and by the way, if you want to trade hard luck stories, you better get in line. I may have been a spoiled little girl, hell I still am, but if they were giving out awards to fucked up teens, you know I'd have won them all. Forget gymnastics, my trophy cabinet would have been full." Gleefully, she watched him try and fail to keep a straight face. "It's okay, you can laugh. I'll be the first to admit that I was a basket case, the poster child for misplaced rage, and probably a bit of a bunny boiler, whatever."

He smirked knowingly. "You weren't _that _bad."

Her expression matched. "With such a barefaced lie, now I know you're desperately trying to sleep with me again!" He winked playfully as she punched his arm. "Anyway, the point I need to make is that, whilst I'm not that girl anymore, far from her, I want to say sorry too. We were just a clusterfuck from start to finish weren't we, and I have a lot of regrets."

He nodded. For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Finally, Carter breached the stillness. "Are you sure you aren't that girl because you look an awful lot like her. On a good day I feel like you honestly could definitely pass for Lauren Tanner's sexy older sister." If looks could kill he would have been in trouble. Unrepentant about his joke, Carter stuck out his hand. "Truce then?" Lauren just nodded, stifling a grin. She didn't want him to realise how amused she was by the backhanded compliment. He smiled for the both of them. "So what now?"

"You can kick things off by buying me another drink, one for the road." He dutifully stood up to do as he was bid, but the blonde stalled him with a look. He spun, waiting, slightly bemused. He obviously anticipated a diva type demand. She played along a little. "Oh and Carter, be a doll and make it a strong one." The trail of his laughter followed him to the bar.

Whether she defined her reasoning as being the echo of that laughter, nostalgia and lingering feelings or just plain good spirits, Lauren permitted Carter to walk her back to her apartment. It wasn't grand, and in all probability, through his eyes she likely seemed out of place there, but she loved the charm of the old building and having a space, a home, that was all hers. She turned to him as the cool night air warns her not to string out the final scene. She had no desire to listen, not ready to say goodbye yet. Fighting it, the girl hovered on the doorstep, jangling her keys, counting to 10. She drew out every breath, each hop from foot to foot until he gave her an alternative. "So, are you going to invite me in?" His tone was casual, light-hearted as it had been all night, but she detected an undercurrent of sincerity and desperation in the request and with it the awareness that he had never been more serious.

She leapt on the opportunity. "No, of course not." She whispered as the door opened and hazel orbs playfully beckoned him in. She quickly indulged in a modest tour, too self-conscious to fully exhibit her pride and joy to him, before removing his jacket and draping it on a vacant hook. She noted that the buttons held the cold and secretly hoped that his heart did not. That would be her fault too. "This isn't going to be another of our pity dates." She stated firmly, at the same time, her fingers were adjusting his shirt collar absently.

He raised an eyebrow and the smirk returned. Lauren held her breath for the ensuing mockery. "So it's a date?"

"You know what I mean, don't be a smart ass, it honestly isn't attractive to a girl if you nitpick her choice of vocabulary on top of all your other annoying habits." Without another word, she promptly breezed into the kitchen to put the espresso machine on, busying herself making coffee that she knew they would neglect. Anything seemed better than idle hands and another mistake. She had an established pretence to cling to, after all, and that was detachment. It worked until Carter followed her minutes later, propping himself on the counter like another shiny appliance. He hummed idly, playing with the handles of the mugs she had set out. Another game. Nevertheless, her lips curve into a smile naturally.

"I don't want to be alone tonight." She froze, recalling all the times she had used that near identical phrase. Immediately Lauren scanned his face, scrutinising every feature for a hint of ridicule, the tiniest flicker that would mean he had taken this too far, but she found none. He was tired and undoubtedly intoxicated, but she couldn't fault how earnest he was.

"Me either." For a second time she didn't outwardly invite him in. The doorway of her bedroom loomed all at once. "This isn't anything." She warned as her eyes lock with his. Carter removed his boots and shirt, stopping there as he pulled back the sheet. Lauren in turn slipped off her heels and tugged her jumper over her head. In that second of blackness he had moved towards her and then in one fluid action reached out to smooth her wayward hair. It could have almost been choreographed. Her heart fluttered, practically stopping when he opened his arms to her. They fell onto the bed like that intertwined, his body folding over hers, a perfect fit.

That night wasn't like all the others that they spent in her bed, there was no sex, only dreaming, wound tightly in each other's arms. They didn't even kiss. Carter just held her, offering the level of intimacy that she'd always been refused and each breath whispered a lasting farewell to the past and a connection that had been more tangled than the sheets they lay down in, granting more than kisses or empty promises ever would. Therefore, for all those reasons and a million more that she would die before revealing aloud, the blonde smiled widely yet again as she drifted off. The girl was distinctly aware that although the result was the same, her waking up alone, everything else was different. Facing the morning would be okay this time.


End file.
